Cat Got the Cream
by Calm Envy
Summary: Poor Marik. He didn't plan to run for form president or hold a High School Talent Show. He especially didn't want to fall for Malik. But his plans have backfired, and it looks like some kitschy love is in the air... MM, RB, YY. Hiatus.
1. The New Student

**A/N: **Can you believe I started this over half a decade ago…? Neither can I. Anyway, I made some edits. Nothing _too_ shocking, I hope. Name changes (most notably Marik Ishtana to Mariku Himesaki – I just like that name. Besides the old one was way too similar to Malik Ishtar). Added and deleted sentences. Now shoo. Go read. It'll be super fun.

* * *

**The New Student**

Half past two: the scene, a classroom. About thirty-odd students crammed into small wooden desks, dutifully jotting down notes or staring at the blackboard. One muggy classroom plus one droning teacher equals one very bored Himesaki Mariku. Wait…shouldn't that be two? Then again, who really cared.

"Himesaki!"

Yes, that was his name…

"_Himesaki!_"

Mariku's eyes flickered open. "Can I take your order?"

"Himesaki," repeated the teacher for the third time. The chalk in her hand showed signs of wanting to become a murder accessory. " You haven't been paying any attention as usual, have you?"

"I think we both know the answer to that question," Mariku answered, voice muffled by the pencil-case acting as his pillow. The classroom was filled with quiet laughter.

"Good lord." Miss Satou sighed and smoothed down her skirt. "I don't know why you even bother coming, Himesaki. And we have a new student today! You haven't made a very good first impression! Can't you at least sit up and pretend to show some respect?"

Mariku looked up and rolled his eyes – in nothing but the _highest_ respect of course. He was about resume his idyllic state of mind when-

"You're kidding me."

For there, standing beside the teacher, was-

"My evil twin!" he gasped. "I thought you died in the house fire!"

Two rows away Honda Hiroto snorted so hard it came out his nose.

The new boy's eyes narrowed, and not at the pointy-headed brunette wiping his face with his sleeve. He ran a hand through his hair – a possible affront to Mariku's own uncontrollable hairdo. "I _don't _know who you are. And I don't intend to."

"Very funny boys." The teacher laughed forcedly. "Ha ha…yes…boys will be boys. Now, Malik, go and sit beside Mariku. There aren't any other desks, I'm afraid."

"They even have the same name!" another smart-ass remarked. Rex Raptor leaned back on his chair, snickering at his own joke. "Hur hur. One of them must be from the past! Like, talk about blast from the past, or something!"

Malik stared at Rex, long and hard. A bead of sweat ran down the latter's face.

"Yes, I thought so," Malik said, one eyebrow raised. It was surely a test of strength on his part that he could refrain from adding in a cheap joke at the expense of Rex's hair-dye choice.

Mariku hid his mild interest. (Although what were the chances? Maybe they really were related). He continued studying his graffiti-marred desk, sliding a thin finger up and down the engraved words. Finally his curiosity got the better of him and he turned to study the other boy. He was kind of good-looking.

Not that Mariku was attracted to him or anything. _No_. Perhaps their close resemblance had something to do with it, Mariku thought. Maybe he really had a twin out there he'd never heard about.

Although, they weren't quite identical. This Malik, if that was even his real name, was slimmer and less muscular than he was. But that could be down to diet, of course. He looked like somebody who dieted. They _definitely_ weren't twins… Malik's lips were fuller. His eyes had a wideness that the Himesakis lacked. He really was quite effeminate looking.

Take that extremely obvious lavender hooded top that showed off his belly. Mariku examined said belly as Malik started writing down notes with a mechanical pencil. Mariku examined said belly for about twelve minutes, before he realized what he was doing. Then he quickly looked away in dismay. What the fuck if they really were related?

"So..." Mariku muttered, trying to think of _anything_ apart from the belly. "Where are you from?"

Malik's lips worked, as if deciding whether he should talk to Mariku or not. "Egypt. I doubt you've ever been there before."

"I'm half." Mariku's fear grew. "Maybe we actually are re-"

"I don't think so," Malik interrupted shortly.

"But-"

Malik continued in his brusque manner. "The Ishtars are a long and _select_ line. I'm only the second one to leave Egypt." Answering the unspoken question on Mariku's lips, he added, "My sister was the first, a couple of years ago. I doubt she was your mother."

"You don't have any cousins, anything?"

"No." As if against his will, a small smile graced Malik's lips. "It's strange that there are two blonde Egyptians in the class though."

"Ha!" Mariku folded his arms and rested his head on them. "Are you kidding me? I'm so bleached I'm surprised it hasn't killed my brain cells yet! You really mean to tell me you're natural… You must have gotten some pretty _weird_ looks back home. Not that I can talk."

The smile disappeared. "No. I can't say I did."

"Oh come on! I've had a million comments on _my_ hair, and I go to _this_ freak haven!" Mariku laughed. "You've already met Rex… Then there's Honda over there… Wait until you see Yami Kanagawa! It's purple, and gold, and oh shit – he has people that actually _copy_ his hair. Yugi Mutou has it down to an art form!"

Malik seemed unimpressed by the deluge of information.

"So anyway, why did you move to Domino?" Mariku pressed on, sensing this.

"Silence, Himesaki!" Satou Sensei huffed as she began to write an equation on the board.

"I've been asking myself the same question," Malik replied coldly. He obviously had not mastered the subtle art of making friends.

"What's wrong with Domino?" Mariku asked, a little defensively.

Somewhere in the heavens, an all-seeing doll maker finished winding up his little project Malik. His eyes widened and he sprang to life. "Oh. My god. Do I even need to go into this? It's uncultured, the schooling's so simplistic, it's full of _game shops_, the food is awful-"

"_Excuse _me?" Mariku hissed, surprised.

Malik stared back at him challengingly. "Raw fish. Seaweed. That disgusting gluey yellow beanie…whatever it is."

"It's called _nattou_. And what the hell did you eat in Egypt exactly? Camels? Pyramids?"

"Very mature of you. Actually, my fa– my father used to make the best pastries ever." He sounded wistful. "You're so ignorant. Shouldn't you know what Egyptians eat?"

"I've never lived there, obviously. Maybe I would consider it if it wasn't all just sand. I bet a _game shop_ would be a welcome change in that boring landscape."

"Sure." Malik seemed to tire of the quarrel, and he began writing again. Mariku suddenly hated the boy almost as much as he hated himself for not winning the argument. He looked like a stupid toddler bawling for a toy.

He sighed. He should probably do something too. But why start? There were only ten minutes left anyway. He pulled out a compass and began to dig something into the desk. Judging by the rest of the graffiti left by previous occupants, it possibly could have been the beginning of _Malik iz an asshole 4 lyf _(or something equally debonair).

But then! But then, but then, but then – Malik did this _amazing_ yawn thing where he leaned back against his chair and stretched his arms slowly over his head. The hem of his top rose to uncharted heights. Several inches of flesh sighted and Mariku forgot his grudge… It was tanned and flat and what _every_ stomach should look like.

Alas, the bell rang. Malik swiftly swept up his books and dumped them into a worn rucksack – the up point was that it allowed Mariku a good view of his behind – and left the classroom.

After watching him disappear out of the door, Mariku finally got up from his desk and immediately set to finding his best, and some cruel people could replace that with only, friend. It wasn't Mariku's fault that everybody else at Domino was unworthy of his companionship.

* * *

There was once a time when Bakura Sakurada had been cutely known as Bakura Sakura. Cardcaptor Bakura. Plain old Cardcaptor. That time was gone, and anybody who dared to call him any one of those names to his face obviously held their life expectancy in low regard. Bakura was a snide, awful, cruel, superior boy.

And today he was being kept in class. Idiot. He shouldn't have been caught. But when the Honourable Lord President Seto Kaiba (Esq.) had been leaning over to pick up his briefcase, he hadn't been able to resist kicking his chair over. The revered billionaire hadn't taken the most graceful of falls.

Who carried a _briefcase_ to school anyway?

"Oh, please, Sensei." At the front of the class, a girl in a hot-pink halter-neck top was wringing her hands. "Bakura was just playing a joke."

"You call it a joke?" Kaiba's voice was cold. "I run a billion-dollar corporation, you mindless girl. I could have been seriously hurt, and then what would happen to Domino? This city basically lives off Kaiba Corporation!"

"I'm tired of you constantly defending Sakurada, Mazaki." The teacher waved a hand. "And Kaiba, we _all _know you're a billionaire, okay?"

Kaiba looked as if he would explode in rage.

"Now both of you, go! I can take care of this."

Bakura watched as the two continued to argue, and then finally turn to go. Mazaki Anzu raced outside blindly in a flood of tears, slamming the door behind her. Kaiba took more measured steps-

"Oh my dear darling Cardcaptor! I've been looking all _over_ for you!" Bakura's cheeks flushed unflatteringly, as the door swung open and hit Kaiba squarely in the face. Mariku walked in, oblivious.

"You- you idiot!" Kaiba hissed, cupping his red face.

"Eh, sorry?" Mariku looked anything but. "Ah…accident. Go contact your insurance team."

"Oh, it's you Mariku." Kaiba's voice became oddly kinder. "Be more careful next time."

"Make me," Mariku answered as he left the room. Bakura's lips twitched.

"_Well_, Himesaki," said the teacher. "I don't recall inviting you in here."

_Aha_. Mariku and Bakura, problem kids, the bad boys of the school. There wasn't a teacher, nurse or cleaner at Domino High that didn't know their name. More importantly, they were infamous among students. It all seemed so cliché. Something out of the Breakfast bloody Club. All they needed was a few stereotypical idiots to join their team and they'd have a regular Saturday shindig.

"Card–" Bakura scowled. "–I mean, Bakura has to come to the office, you see," Mariku invented.

"I-?" Bakura nodded. "Oh, so they found out about the bathroom incident."

The teacher looked shocked. "Pardon-? …I definitely should have seen this coming."

And Bakura was taken back by his own acting skills. Mariku grabbed his arm and said, "So, we'll be off now."

"Right, right, just go." The teacher was now rubbing her forehead with her knuckles in what looked like…embarrassment? "Just, please, leave the activities for your own time, and _not_ at school."

"We'll make sure to keep it in mind," Mariku said smoothly as the pair wove their way through the maze of desks.

Just as they were out the door, the teacher hesitantly added, "And play it _safe_."

Whatever was that supposed to mean? The boys did not know, and frankly they did not care either. Bakura looked at Mariku without much gratitude. "Thanks."

"No problem," replied Mariku in his usual careless manner, as they both went down the corridor. That was the beauty of their friendship – they didn't waste their time with stupid emotions. "What was it this time anyway?"

"I tripped up your sister's boyfriend."

"Ah…let me guess…he threatened to sue you?"

"Surprisingly, no."

Mariku suddenly halted.

"What's the hold-up?"

"Oh…Pfft. It's the new guy that I sit next to in math now." Mariku glanced at a figure rummaging through a locker.

"I don't really see why you bothered stopping just for _that_." Bakura raised a slim eyebrow. "Unless...?"

When Mariku had admitted his love for both boys and girls a couple of years ago, Bakura had panicked. _If I'm gay, does that mean we have to start dating?_ Thankfully, no. _God no!_ Bakura had thought with a sense of relief. Even though deep down he did love Mariku (and he would never have admitted it to anybody), he could never even think of him like…

"Don't be an idiot, Cardcaptor."

"Quit fucking calling me that."

"Aw, I can't stop doing that!"

"Fucker."

Mariku ignored him and smiled. "It's just strange. That boy – he almost looks exactly like me. Except for the hair, and that outfit."

"Your hair is _weird_," Bakura agreed.

Mariku continued to ignore him. "And did I mention that he's the snobbiest kid that ever walked this earth? He was bitching about the uncultured lower class in Domino and so on."

"It defies gravity," Bakura mused on, blissfully unaware of Mariku's tirade. He pulled on a strand of blond hair. "Well at least you probably won't go bald."

"Are you even listening to me? Look at him!"

Interestingly enough, Malik closed the locker as he uttered those words. How coincidental!

Bakura's mouth dropped open slightly. "Oh. Yes." He managed to look past the incredible likeness that Malik shared with Mariku, and poisonously added, "I spy a halfie."

A crude term for half-man, half-woman. Clearly, the pair had never come across the appropriate medical term 'hermaphrodite'. Or maybe that wasn't even the right meaning. Effeminate maybe. Or a butch woman? The pair needed to stop being so close-minded. But…heh heh…halfie. It did serve as a useful insult!

"And what a _slut_."

Mariku laughed incredulously. "What?"

"That hoody? Sleeveless, and doesn't even cover his belly."

Yes, Mariku was very aware of that already. He tried to ignore the warmth in his stomach and imagined Bakura in Speedos. _Ugh, what the fuck?_

"And those pants are kind of tight, aren't they?" Bakura's tone turned appreciative. "Yeah, the sluttier version of you!"

"Don't get any ideas." Unable to get the Speedo image out of his head, Mariku became even more disgusted. He pulled down the sleeves of his own hoody in a very obvious manner. Who knew that all it took to get Bakura's interest was-

"As if. Getting with you would be like committing incest. No no _no_, I'm going to go talk to this boy. What's his name?"

"Ah...it's Malik. He's not a very friendly person."

Bakura was already gone.

"Good morning," he said suavely, as soon as he had caught up to Malik. "Nice day for a walk?"

"Well…isn't any day?"

"Clever answer. I like that," Bakura said, almost aggressively. He really was quite sickening when he began working his charms (well Mariku thought so anyway). "I haven't seen you around before. You must be new."

"I've only been here for about half an hour." Luckily, Malik didn't seem particularly captivated by Bakura's glib tongue.

"Ah, well you must be new then. I wouldn't have missed a face like yours. Or body heh heh…"

"You really are full of bullshit, Cardcaptor," Mariku interrupted. "I told you he was a new student two seconds ago."

"It's you again," Malik sighed, noticing the other blond. He pushed away Bakura's arm, which had been resting innocently around his shoulders.

"Bingo!" Mariku pointed his trigger finger at Malik. The sea of students pushing past the trio forced them uncomfortably close together.

"Just ignore him. I'm Bakura," said the white-haired one, now placing the arm around Malik's waist. "And you, dear, are delectable."

Mariku recalled a news article about a man at a stadium who purposefully vomited on the people in front of him. That classy, refined man. But right now, no, Marik could definitely see where he was coming from.

"The fuck? Weren't you calling him a _halfie_ before?" Mariku blurted out before he could stop himself.

"A…what?" Malik's eyes narrowed.

"I don't have a bloody clue what you're talking about," Bakura said dismissively.

"Don't be silly. You were just saying…" And Mariku went off on his spiel, explaining the term in graphic and unnecessary detail. With pleasure, he noted that Malik's cheeks were now a lovely shade of pink.

"You two are fucking pathetic!" Malik crossed his arms. "I'm not…whatever you call it!"

"You _two_?" Mariku stared at him. "Bakura said it. I was trying to be a helpful citiz-"

"Oh piss off!" Malik snapped. He pushed Bakura into a locker (whose elbow left a nice-sized dent) and stalked off, lost in the crowd before either of his pursuers could say anything.

"What the hell was that for?" Bakura turned to Mariku.

"Just playing a game, my silly Cardcaptor."

"You twisted-"

"Look, I'm bored." Mariku smiled. He had an idea: one which would amuse him and give him a way to pass the time, not to mention get Bakura out of the way. Dear friend as he was. "And here's my game. Let's see who ends up with Malik at the end of all of this."

Bakura looked crafty. Involuntarily he smirked and licked his lips, his tongue lingering over a pointed fang. He was always down for a bet, especially if it involved a pretty boy. "Oh, my misguided Mariku, be sure that _I'm _the one who'll get Malik. After all, who can resist this body?"

If Mariku had been anybody else, he might have melted into a puddle. Instead he sneered at his friend. "We're on."

* * *

"_Bakura is a complex and multi-layered creature of many talents._" It sounded good. Bakura repeated the sentence to himself with satisfaction. Obviously incredible modesty was not one of these talents.

He loved English. That, and Japanese, were the only classes he actually excelled in. Sure he could be crass and banter along with Mariku, but he truly felt himself when he was expressing himself eloquently.

He walked into the class, still plotting how he could win Malik's affections. He was about to take his usual seat when – dear, dear, speak of the devil – he saw his heart's desire already sitting by the window. Clearly, it was time to adopt some manners! He could do that. He was _born_ to do it.

A smiling girl was walking over to sit next to Malik – "The new boy's _cute_," she squealed to her friends – when Bakura roughly pushed her aside.

Malik sighed in the most dreadful way when he saw Bakura grinning next to him. Then he proceeded to prop his head on his hand and stare at the whiteboard dejectedly. Bakura, of course, pretended to be hanging on to every word the teacher spoke.

"So, how about that Shakespeare?" Bakura queried out of the side of his mouth. "A classic. Wonderful, _romantic_ tales to _fall in love_ with."

Malik glared at him. "Oh please. He's so overrated. I've been learning about him for the past three years. Can we learn anything new at this Godforsaken school?"

Bakura was severely tempted to relieve Malik of an organ as he listened to him slur the great wordsmith.

"There's plenty to learn," he said frostily.

"For the intellectually challenged, perhaps."

Bakura, having always considered himself academically gifted (no matter what _some_ teachers chose to put in his reports), became even more offended. Then he calmed himself by imagining himself and Malik in a bedroom. "So, teach me about yourself then."

"...No."

What the hell? _No?_

As Bakura tried to think of a response, the teacher began handing out a pop quiz. Bakura stared at it in horror. Romeo and Juliet. The one Shakespearian play he couldn't stand. How was he supposed to-? Ah well, how hard could it be. A boy and a girl fall in love, blah blah blah.

Bakura sucked on his pencil, and then began to fill out the quiz. Then he tilted back on his chair, pleased. Why had he even been worried in the first place?

"Do you need help?" he asked Malik gallantly.

"No cheating!" screeched the teacher in what he believed to be a hushed whisper. Bakura lowered his head, but did not accept defeat. Pretending to sneeze, he brushed his test paper across the desk. Now the answers were in full view of Malik. Bakura grinned.

Then he stopped when Malik sniffed and turned the paper back over.

Bakura took it and began to scrunch it at the bottom idly. What was with that stupid kid? Wasn't he at least dishonourable enough to take a look at the answers? But, Malik did give off an air of cleverness… Perhaps Bakura had done everything wrong. Hurriedly Bakura turned the sheet back over and crossed out all his answers, before putting random new ones in. Then he flipped it over again.

Malik looked at him, annoyed. Then he dismissed the sheet lying to the side of him and carried on with his own work.

Just as Bakura was about to protest, the swift hand of the teacher took his sheet and Malik's only just finished one, skim reading through the answers as she went. He smiled graciously at Malik – a good sign, which assured anybody he would for sure be getting high marks – and looked at Bakura disappointedly.

Bakura grimaced slightly. Mr. Nakada had never looked at him in disappointment before.

Malik's mouth twitched slightly in reaction to Bakura's expression. The white-haired one clenched his fists, the ugly head of his rage rearing once more. For once, Bakura understood why people were always choosing personality before appearance.

_No, no, that's not the way._

"Bedroom bedroom bedroom," he chanted to himself underneath his breath, and prepared himself to deliver a terribly greasy speech.

God, life sucked unbearably sometimes.

"So you think you'll get really good marks, hmmm?" Bakura asked in a low, positive way, as if he were a secret agent from the CIA exchanging top-secret confidential information with another of his kind.

"Yes," replied Malik carelessly. "It's not like anything ever else happens."

"Is that so?" Bakura asked, tapping his fingers on the desk. "By the way, I was wondering whether you've found friends yet. Somebody _special_."

"I might," said Malik evasively. His act fell through for a moment when he added, "Friends, I mean. Nobody special yet."

Bakura nodded, a smile growing across his face. "Oh. I see. You shouldn't have any trouble though." Then his boyish side took over, and he thought of something brilliant that Mariku would definitely want to know. "While we're here, I'd like to bring this up. Are you a halfie?"

Oh...how awkward.

"What's that?" asked Malik, still on his guard.

When Bakura elaborated, Malik retorted by flipping the other's chair over, causing him to land in a heap. Suddenly there seemed to be much cause for celebration. The students around them were clapping and whistling. Even the teacher couldn't give in to smiling. Pleased by the ovation around him, Malik looked down at Bakura and said, "No. Not the way you like them, I'm guessing?"

When the bell rang once again, Malik walked out victorious.

Bakura rubbed his head and grinned in spite of himself. "Feisty. Just the way I like them!"

* * *

Go **review** or something. Hee.


	2. Smart Boys and Dumb Guys

**A/N:** Thank you, sweet reviewers: **Uoyr's Lover**, **Snow-shadow-wolf**, **Camizatugi**, **Anonymous Baka**, **DMG Hakusho**, and **Dangerousgirl**! Plus, I'm so sorry it took so long to update, but I've been so busy lately!

* * *

**Smart Boys and Dumb Guys**

"He's not as intelligent as he likes to put on," Bakura sniffed. His hands were tucked into his jean pockets as the pair walked to the cafeteria for some culinary delights. "He refused to cheat – he didn't even look at my test sheet!"

"Ha...is that so?" Mariku replied in a superior voice. "Well, I think he's smart because he knew that all your answers were wrong."

So far, so jubilant. It looked like he was going to win that little bet.

"Hey…you take that back! It was bloody Romeo and Juliet!"

A black and lilac blur rushed past them, but being the slow, thoughtful people they ignored this strange sight and began to ponder the mysteries of life. Not.

"There he goes!" Bakura was fond of pointing out the obvious. "I bet he's going to meet up with all his brand new little friends!"

So of course, the curious pair followed Malik. He took a seat at a table with a couple of fresh-faced looking kids, a tray of salad and cookies and a milk carton and whatnot in front of him. Malik started drinking the milk with a straw – and promptly choked when Mariku and Bakura sat down on either side of him.

"You do have friends." Bakura tried to sound sweet, but it came out like a threat. It was certainly not the best comeback in the history.

"Does that really come as a surprise to you?" Malik sounded, recovering remarkably quickly.

Said friends sat at table less than menacingly.

"Hello, I'm Yugi," a multi-coloured haired boy said politely, smiling for the world as if somebody had actually asked him his name. He was sitting across from Malik, clutching a small brown paper bag in his hands. Bakura eyed him warily. It was the tri-coloured haired ones you had to watch out for him.

"And I'm Ryou." It was...an albino! Except he didn't have pink eyes. No, no, his eyes were perfectly brown and innocent.

Mariku smiled triumphantly. "Ah, and here's your evil twin, Bakura."

"_You're_ my evil twin, Mariku," Bakura said pleasantly.

_Awhhh!_

"I have no idea what you're trying to do Bakura, but stop."

"Why are you trying to hide the truth?"

"You know," Malik interrupted the pair, "he does resemble Ryou."

Ryou's face was red. "Yeah, well, you look like – oh, you haven't introduced yourself."

"I," said Mariku proudly, "am Mariku."

"And I am Bakura," said the obvious one. "I am loveable, kind, loveable, affable, loveable and friendly. And I'm loveable." He figured that since he wanted to win Malik's friendship, he might as well get to know the rest of the gang. "Did I mention I was loveable?"

"Good for you." Malik was unimpressed.

"What does it take to get you to warm to me anyway? Do you want to hang out after school?" asked Bakura in what he imagined to be a slick voice.

"Well, that sounds g-" Yugi began.

"No!" cried Malik in an almost horrified voice. Carefully he composed himself and added, "We have plans."

Ryou wrinkled his nose. "What plans?"

Malik shoved his elbow into his friend's stomach. "We're going to the sweets parlour."

"I'm not allowed to eat can-" Yugi's abdomen also connected with an elbow. He tried again. "I have to see-"

"Yes!" Malik's voice was shrill and high, reminding Mariku of a twittering bluebird that used to live in the apple tree outside its house. He used to poach its eggs during springtime – the bluebird of course, attempted to protect its offspring. It did not live to tell the tale.

"We are going there," he finished in what he hoped was a light voice after much consideration. "And by there, I mean the sweets parlour."

"So are we," Mariku mused. It wasn't like he would go home to study. Not with abhorrent sister Ishizu and ugly boyfriend Kaiba sitting on the couch putting him off.

"No way!" blurted the twin that never was. "Ah, what I meant was that we'll be going to the hairdressers – yes, that's it!" Good one. Even though both of his pursuers looked in dead need of a new hairstyle.

"Let's go to there as well instead of your pathetic little sweets parlour then," Bakura suggested happily. "Mariku's lactose intolerant anyway." Whatever that meant.

Ryou beamed. "How wonderful. So you can join us on our outing."

Yugi frowned. "I don't mean to be a party pooper but I have to go on a d-"

"You wouldn't ditch us like that, would you, Yugi?" Malik asked disapprovingly. "Where do you have to be so urgently, anyway?"

Yugi blushed. "Mmm, well I'd prefer it if they weren't here first," he elaborated in a small whisper.

"Don't worry, we were just leaving," said Mariku in a brave attempt to seem likeable. "Come, Bakura."

Said boy growled at his manner of speech, preferring to sound as if he were a human, not a dog – though the way he slunk off after Mariku did not help.

Yugi sighed in relief when they were gone. "Anyway, what I was going to say was that – oh, you guys will laugh at me."

"We won't!" said Ryou earnestly. Malik wasn't as sure as his white-haired friend.

Yugi flicked one of the blonde bangs that were trailing into his packet of chips and smiled mysteriously, intriguing his friends. "Well...you know Yami..."

"Who _doesn't_?"

"Be quiet, Malik."

There was edgy silence. Then...

"Oh my gosh, Yugi, I am so proud of you!" gushed Ryou. It was almost a sickening sight to behold, but his angelic face stopped anybody in the vicinity from punching him.

Yugi blushed. "It's not big deal guys, I mean he's just my first-"

"Are you kidding me? Yugi's got a da-ate!"

"How suh-weet!" chimed a voice from nowhere. It was left unheard.

"You're the only one who likes their…uh…_look-a-like_," observed Malik sagely.

"We do _not_ look alike," Yugi protested. "It's just the hair, and I made mine like Yami's on purpose. Maybe that's why he likes me, because we're on the same wavelength? Or should I say hair-length? (Ha ha ha…) But you and…whatever his name was, Mariku-"

"God, don't even bring that moron up."

"What, you mean you hate me?"

Malik brought his fingers to his face and started rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Tell me this isn't happening."

Mariku pouted in a misguided interpretation of cute.

Bakura slung an arm around Ryou and rested it there. "And what about you, my little Ryou? So you don't like me?"

"Uh, well," stuttered Ryou. "See here Bakura, you're a nice fellow, but I do wish you would stop eavesdropping and all."

"I knew it!" declared Bakura, a hint of feigned sadness in his voice. "Nobody loves me, everybody hates me."

He would live to regret saying that.

"Yoo-hoo!"

And time froze.

"Oh Ra!" The so-called clever and handsome Bakura had wrapped his arms around Ryou's neck in what appeared to be a strangle. Just as Yugi was about to object to his friends being treated like dummies a brunette figure ran to them. Her skirt was reaching dangerous heights in a no-fly zone.

"Hiya, Bakura!" You guessed it. "Wanna go around passing flyers with me? I'm advertising to be the form president!"

"Quite the contrary," said Bakura, removing himself from Ryou's neck's vicinity and glaring at Anzu in disdain. He paused, racking his head for a phrase that would sound perfect. "Oh, you are utterly contemptible."

"Thanks!" So she didn't look like she'd been slapped. Bakura was disappointed. "So is that a yes?"

"No!" Mariku cried. When Bakura looked at him quizzically, he dusted himself off and suavely said, "What are friends for?"

Anzu's eyes widened. "Like, I totally agree! Friends are totally forever, aren't they?"

Mariku rolled his eyes. "Ahem. Bakura's going to be voting for me, because I'm going to be the form president." And that was a new thought.

"No way!" Anzu crossed her arms and glared at Mariku. Then she quickly glanced affectionately at Bakura. "Isn't that right?"

Malik also glowered at Anzu. "Look, lady, frankly, I don't know who you are but you are in my view."

"Be proud!" Anzu did that crazy smile. You know, with the closed eyes and the buckteeth. "Not everybody has someone as hot as me right in front of them."

While Malik laughed incredulously, Bakura slowly began to edge away from the deranged girl.

"Wait, Bakura! Where are you going?"

Cover blown.

Mariku stepped protectively in front of Bakura. "Wow, I'm not really sure how I can make this any clearer, but I'm going to try anyway. Two simple words. Fuck off!"

Anzu's eyes filled with tears. "You don't understand Baura like I do," she protested, pausing at regular intervals. She turned around. "Ryou! Yugi! You side with me, don't you?"

They had already disappeared beneath the table.

"Oh, fudge! Well, Bakura, you will still vote for me anyway, won't you? Won't you? I mean, I did try to protect you from that awful meanie Kaiba! I don't think it's the first time either..."

Bakura smiled leniently, and Téa's hopes rose considerably. "No."

"Wh-what?"

"You see, I can't really vote for you." He was really on a roll with being kind today. Perhaps it was Bakura's International Day of Kindness Day. Yes. That sounded about right. "I can't really vote for anybody except for Mariku."

"No way!" Anzu gasped. "H-he's not going to beat you up if you don't, is he?" Her fists clenched.

Bakura just rested his head on Mariku's shoulder. He kicked him subtly yet painfully when the other turned to dissent. "Sorry, but we're kind of in a relationship."

"You have got to be fu-" Mariku began, when Bakura grasped the front of his shirt and planted a kiss on his lips. One eye remained open as Bakura watched Anzu's expression carefully. When she failed to look fully convinced, he jammed his tongue in Mariku's mouth.

Now the whole room was staring.

Anzu was aghast. Mariku began to comb his tongue frantically with his sleeve.

"Well...well..." Anzu could not find anything to say about this and immediately ran away blindly. There was a brief stillness.

"It would be nicer if these two idiots left as well," complained Malik.

The bell rang.

"Saved," said Yugi dryly. Then, snapping back into his normal cheerful mode, he waved to his friends and was bouncing off down the corridor, followed by Malik. What, you didn't think he'd stay, did you?

"Well, it's been nice knowing you two," said Ryou dubiously to Mariku and Bakura. After a few seconds' hesitation, he added as an afterthought, "So are you really in a relationship? As in you're gay?"

Mariku was mortified. "No!" he lied.

Bakura smiled. "Only for my Mariku," he also lied.

"Well, that's interesting to hear," Ryou said earnestly. "You shouldn't look so horrified, Mariku. There's nothing wrong with being homosexual. I daresay it's even enjoyable."

Mariku cleared his throat loudly as the British one followed his friends out of the cafeteria.

"H-hold on!" Bakura almost tripped over in his haste to chase after Ryou. "Wait! No I mean-"

He stumbled unflatteringly as Mariku reached out and grabbed his shirt. The boy was not happy. "What is _wrong_ with you? You said we were never going to do…_that_, and I was happy keeping it that way!"

"Oh shut up, Mariku. I needed Téa to piss off. Now let's just try to forget about it."

Mariku huffed but tailed him along the corridor, occasionally touching his lips with distaste.

* * *

Are you somebody that uses the minimum of words? If so, please skip the following. Or perhaps you insist upon using a thousand words when twenty-three would do? Then continue to read on!

"The room is exotically decorated, filled with fragrant flowers scenting of spiciness. There are richly coloured scarves hung in every corner like flowing silk butterflies. The walls are gorgeous claret accentuated with glittering star motifs. Ruby crystal lamps are seated on each table. There I sit on a fine garnet couch draped luxuriously with Arabian cloths, with a decanter of the finest wine in my lap and a glass of it sparkling in my hand."

"That is the worst fucking shit I have ever heard."

Bakura folded shut the notebook sitting on his knees. "If you don't mind, I am trying to be creative. An art session is in progress. Just because you do not happen to have a gift for the written word, that does not mean you should be jealous."

Mariku rolled his eyes. "Gifted is open for interpretation."

"I'll have you know that I've won a poetry contest before. Twice."

"Well, somebody had to make you feel better about yourself, didn't they? And which contest did you win? The under-fives?"

"Oh, go die."

Mariku wrinkled his nose. "Did you just tell me to…die?"

"No, sweetheart, I told you to live long and prosper."

"Because, actually I was thinking-"

"Wow! Mariku actually thinking? Somebody alert the Nobel Prize team!"

"-and it wouldn't actually be a bad idea if I did run for Form President."

There was silence while Bakura added an extra flowery verb to his tale. "I have nothing to say to that."

"I'm serious."

So Mariku had never been that nerdy type of student, offering to stay behind after school so they could do a cookie bake sale or charity drive. In fact, he could probably count the number of people he actually gave a shit about on one hand. But there was some glory to the title of Form President that actually attracted him. And yeah, maybe it was actually time to start contributing something to Domino High and actually helping out his fellow brethren.

…Just kidding.

"I just wanted to see if I could win."

"Um, dear, you still have that other bet you haven't won yet."

Mariku waved away Bakura's concerns with a disdainful hand. "Don't worry, I know how to multi-task. Just vote for me."

"Only if I can add you to my story," Bakura said slyly.

"What- that piece of shit? No!"

"My companion Mariku smiles at me, his pearlescent teeth glittering in the dim light. Dim, just like he. And-"

* * *

**Author's Note:** What should you say in these situations? Reviews are love.


	3. Cutie Pie

**Kitty:** Thank you to **Dd**, **IMPROVED Uber Rei Model 06**, **Carmen5-Nemrac**, **Chrysler**, **Jaye Jaye**, **Uoyr's Lover**, **Misura**, **SSCeles**, **Snow-shadow-wolf**, **DMG Hakusho**, and **Pork Steak the Grande**! My super-lovely reviewers.

* * *

**Cutie-Pie**

Mariku fidgeted impatiently in his seat. He had always hated the school hall. There was something incredibly disgusting and corny about the way that the principal had mounted up student art on the walls. Not to mention that every time they entered the hall, Bakura would smirk knowingly at the large black and red mural hanging above the stage as if to say, "Yes, that's right, he chose _mine_ as the most important piece. I am a fucking artist, bitch."

But wait, there's more! The hall functioned not only as an exhibition of mediocre art. Every fortnight, students were blessed with the opportunity of coming into this room to listen to some fabulous discussions of "matters of importance". Oh yes, every time there was an assembly, a particularly promising array of "school leaders" would be picked to talk about these things. Who could resist?

And this was a super important assembly! Without doubt! The one where students would be able to learn about their Form President candidates!

There was suddenly a loud smack. Everybody's eyes were cast towards the stage, where Malik smiled at them coolly.

"Ah, our favourite friend," Bakura said. "Already reaching the starry heights of scholastic superiority."

"What the fuck is it about this room that brings out the snob in you?" Mariku asked.

There was another loud smack. Malik was using the beating-the-living-crap-out-of-the-microphone technique. As soon as he realized it was on, he began to speak. "Welcome to the assembly."

He was so quiet that everybody had to lean forward to hear him.

"I'm Malik Ishtar." He projected his voice slightly better. It was about to become louder yet. "You may not have seen me around before."

A casual glance at them, and he became yet more audible. "I'm new to this school, but recently I got a hundred percent out of a test."

"Alert the media!" Bakura was rather fond of this joke.

Malik continuted. A normal tone - chatting to a friend, like. "I could be at university, I've been told." He really did love himself. He raised his voice even louder. "But while I'm here, I want to make this school, and its dull assemblies better." Louder still. "For I'm sure you're not enjoying them." A shout. "Are you with me?"

Suddenly applause and cheer erupted. "Hail Malik!" Not exactly appropriate...

"He really is something else," Mariku commented.

"He's dressing a little more conservatively today." Bakura eyed Malik's striped sweater unhappily.

"Now." Malik's voice was pleasantly quieter, as if he were talking to someone next to him. "We'll have Yami."

Mariku smirked. Beside him, Bakura's eyes narrowed.

"Ahem!" A boy with multi-coloured hair stood up on the stage, prideful and elegant. He flicked back a lightning-bolt shaped bag as if to announce to the world that he was incredibly pleased with his bizarre hairstyle. "As you all know, I'm Yami Kanagawa." He smiled, placing a hand on his hip, and a chorus of lovestruck sighs settled across the room.

_Foooooooool. Acting like he's some...superstar. I really hate that song._

"Do you have to think so loudly?" Bakura complained.

Embarrassment city! Mariku hadn't realised he had been talking out loud.

"Anyway," Yami said. "I'm the one behind the form president arrangements." He smiled dazzlingly again for a few seconds, loving his school god role.

"In fact," Yami carried on, "it is I who organised this event, so I shall read out the list of candidates for our form. Second form," he added for the benefit of students that were unaware. "We are second form. That is our form. The form of every student in this hall, unless you are first or third form. In which case, this is the second form assembly."

"Christ," Bakura muttered.

"So first of all, we have Seto Kaiba."

Mariku's eyes turned into narrow slits as said boy dismissed the general public with a wave of the hand. It didn't help that last week he had caught Kaiba in a compromising situation with his sister. Ishizu was such a damn cradle snatcher sometimes.

"M-Mariku Himesaki?" Yami was shocked to see that someone as undignified as this boy would run. "Well, yes. Mariku. Naturally."

Mariku was surprised. "Oh! But I forgot to put my name in."

"I did stupid!" said Bakura, smiling. "Aren't you glad that one of us remembered to?"

Yami took a shuddery little breath. "And – Anzu Mazaki?" More disbelief.

Suddenly there was a loud shriek from the crowd. Mariku craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the unsightly girl that had emitted it, and lo and behold, Anzu stood before him, standing up with utmost pride.

"Yes, people!" she announced, placing her hands on her hips and thrusting her chest forward. "I am running for form president! Go me!"

"Sit down!" roared Yami. It was a very uncharacteristic moment. When the astonished brunette plopped down, though, he carried on as if nothing had occurred. "We only have one other candidate. Do the maths. Vote for me."

Then there was huge fanfare, like at a rugby match or soccer tournament. Rabid fan girls waved crude flags with Yami's face on it. Several groups held huge banners between them. Worst of all, a crappy little chant had been arranged. _Yami, Yami, he's our man, if he can't do it, no one can!_ Yeah right.

"How pathetic," Bakura sneered.

"Seat taken?" They looked up, to see the cheerful face of Ryou. Behind him was Yugi.

"No!" answered Bakura, as if he were tremendously pleased to see him. Even though the seat was comfortably taken up, he moved over and sent Mariku all but sprawling to the floor. "Sit here. Beside me," he added to Ryou. The latter did as told – but he was a little too close, if you see what I'm getting at.

"You'll be able to vote via secret ballots which I shall soon set up," Yami suddenly called out. "And that's all from me."

"Isn't he dreamy?" sighed Yugi, placing a hand to his heart.

Bakura laughed – a short, dry bark of a laugh. "More like a nightmare." Then he laughed some more, to illustrate the point that not only was he unbelievably handsome, but he was the most humorous and witty boy to grace the world with his presence.

"No!" said Yugi, obviously shocked anyone could speak about his precious like that.

"Oh, but yes!"

"Bakura." Ryou simply placed a hand on his arm, and he instantly shut up and shot a gooey look at his look-a-like. Damn, Ryou was pretty smart.

Mariku looked at his best friend in horror. What was happening to him? He had known Bakura to have the occasional lover (who obviously didn't know a lot about his many shortcomings) but he had never seen him like _this_. Like something out of a _romance film_.

Then Mariku realized this was probably a good thing, no a _great_ thing. He could assess his own feelings: did he like Malik, or not? Sure he was attractive, but sometimes he couldn't resist annoying the hell out of him… He had the most awful personality sometimes as well.

"People, people." Malik had returned. "So, people, ballots will be up after assembly. We just have a short message from Otogi."

He jumped off the stage and started to walk away.

"Malik!" Yugi cried. "Sit with us!"

His friend gave him a pained look, which all too clearly said, "Okay, get the freaks to hit the road, then!"

Yugi ignored this and flapped a hand in a here-boy motion, but still Malik desisted. Finally the blonde walked glumly over when Ryou joined in with Yugi.

"Sit." Yugi moved over, causing a chain reaction by all but Mariku. Then he patted the newly created spot in the centre of the latter and Bakura.

"Two of them?" Malik glared at him fiercely.

Mariku moved over cunningly so that Malik would have to sit on the edge of the seat. Even though he was undoubtedly good-looking, he enjoyed pissing Malik off.

"Do you have a death wish or something?" But there was nowhere else to sit, so in the end, Malik perched there beside him like a poodle that needed serious anger management classes.

"So who are you voting for anyway?" asked Ryou to make conversation.

Bakura was the first to reply. He bit his lip regretfully. "Mariku," he admitted, if it were an awful thing, a dreadful, horrible, most terrible thing. "Because a promise is a promise, and that's that."

Ugh! Friendship speech alert.

"What's wrong with me?" the blond retorted. There was a snicker from Malik. "Why are you laughing?"

"I'm just surprised." Malik twisted around in the seat to face him. "Surprised you don't know your own problem."

"Yes I do," Mariku replied simply. "It's you."

The other one seethed at being fooled by someone of the _lower class_, but there was little that he could say in response.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing! The bet, you asshole, the bet!" Bakura mouthed. Mariku cursed himself.

"Alright, dearies!" An overpowering scent of talcum powder hit their noises, and an old woman stood before them. It was the infamous Danropu, the withered female that always reeked of Talc de Christmas, and wore an itchy red cardigan. "It's time to go back to class."

"Yes, sir," muttered Mariku. He got off the seat and slowly began to slink away. "Come, Bakura. Bakura?"

But he was reluctant to leave Ryou. "Well...I guess this is goodbye."

"Cut the drama, you sentimental fool," snarled Mariku. He pulled Bakura aside. "And what the fuck do you think _you're_ doing? The bet, maybe, retard?"

"Come, dearies!" The Danropu gasped, quite appalled at their behaviour. Her translucent, liver-spotted mouth was stretching out in a grimace. Her seashell nostrils flared and specks of talcum powder flew at them alarmingly.

You couldn't blame them from sprinting out of the hall in desperation. Once they were out...

"What a horrible old bat," Malik said distastefully. "Honestly, how did she ever get a teaching certificate?"

"Well, you see Malik, first she started at teaching college, and then-"

"Shut up, Bakura. And you-" He pointed at Mariku. "You, this is your fault."

Mariku was amused. "What was my fault?"

"I missed out the last speech because you wouldn't stop talking."

"Jesus, Otogi was giving out a speech on _traffic cones-_"

"Well it could have been important!"

"Well, alright, it's _my _fault then." Without the tantalizing power of his midriff, Malik seemed to have little effect on Mariku. "I'm _so_ sorry you missed out your daily dose of safe road behaviour. But don't worry, I'll take your anger it like a gentleman - for once, that's probably what you're thinking."

Malik lowered his eyes. "Spare me. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to class."

* * *

"He hates me." Mariku said simply, as he rested back on the grass. Oh, sweet spring. The birds were singing, there was nary a cloud in the sky, cherry blossoms hung from the branches of the tree above him…blah blah blah.

Bakura was making daisy-chains and lacing them in Mariku's hair. Thank god there was nobody around within a five-hundred metre radius to scoff at their childhood tradition. "Yes, _you_, Mariku, shall be the Queen of the Blossoms!"

"Are you even listening to me?" Mariku grumbled. "Traitor."

Bakura said nothing, but his lip wobbled. The usually 'cool customer' was really getting into the whole let's-pretend-we're-kids-again thing.

"Bakura! Snap out of it!"

"Oh… It's just, why have I never seen Ryou around before?"

"You have," Mariku pointed out sardonically.

"Well why have I never noticed him then? Stop rolling your eyes, you fuck." Bakura sprinkled grass onto Mariku's hair, unaware of how weirdly his words and actions combined. "I don't think I can go through with this bet without hurting Ryou."

"Oh Jesus."

"Mariku! I have an idea!" Bakura started, and the grass blades tumbled off. "You get really close with him, and then you reject him! He'll be _devastated! _Only don't tell Ryou I told you this, or he'll kill me."

Ryou, Ryou, Ryou.

Mariku closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Bakura stared down at him and produced a truly beautiful smile. They made such a picturesque couple beneath the cherry tree. "Now _that's_ what I call a Blossom Beauty Pageant winning look!"

Uh…or not.

Luckily, Mariku ignored him and continued on his train of thought. Ah yes, it just seemed to keep getting better and better. A way to legitimately pursue the attractive Malik without actually (shudder) developing feelings for him. "Bakura, that is the smartest thing I have heard come out of your mouth."

He looked up at his friend and smiled.

Bakura smirked back in response. "Well, it's true! You really do look great!"

* * *

I like your **reviews**. Hint.


	4. Geeks Are Easily Persuaded

**A/N: **Ha, the author notes I wrote when I was young are hilarious. Not going to get rid of them.

**Kitty:** I have returned! After - what - a year or so of slacking, I have arisen from the depths of mundane boredom! And so on! And yeah! And banana chias rock! This chappie's a bit short ;; I will make it longer next time, and that I promise - even if I do bunk off for another year to do it, teehee!

Thank you to **YuffieGal23**, **IMPROVED Uber Rei Model 06**, **Carmen-Nemrac**, **Jaye Jaye**,** Anonymous Baka**, **Sirithiliel**, **P****ork Steak the Grande**, **BBY**, **LaLALamsey**, **Kaimei Rose**, **Sailor Inuyasha**, **AmythestRoze**, **Fantabulous Watapon**.

* * *

**Geeks Are Easy to Persuade**

_Brrrrrrnnnnng!_ Mariku fell out of his bed with a start, feeling rather stupid. He glanced around his room, taking in every single babyish thing and wanting to hack them each into a million pieces. The grinning Tweety Bird alarm staring at him mockingly. The posters of the Backstreet Boys, Hanson and all those other awful boy bands. The unforgiving rocketship waterbed he slept in every night. Well, maybe not his bed.

Still - a new morning! He made his resolution to renovate his room after school (a resolution broke thousands of times) and changed out of his old careworn pyjamas and into...

"What should I wear today?" Mariku asked himself curiously. What type of impression did he want to make. He eyed his leather and buckles bikie get up in the corner, but the principal would need a triple bypass if he turned up to school in that. "That's right, Malik's going to fall in love with me today."

Rummaging in his cupboard, Mariku found his usual attire of tank top and cargo pants. _So boring. So predictable._ He searched more thoroughly - there, a nice pea green Gucci turtleneck, cashmere Lacoste black scarf, dark Armani pants and a navy Yves St Laurent beanie - and put all of it on. Where the hell had it all come from? Who cared? _Well, it was Winter,_ he told himself. _And I might as well do something with all this labeled crap._

He was dressed in killer designer gear and ready to go.

Mariku scuffled out of the room in tatty socks - the only unbranded piece of clothing he was wearing, for he'd even exchanged his old undies for trendy Calvin Klein numbers - and downstairs for breakfast. There were definitely raised eyebrows when he came in. Well, there were once Ishizu and Kaiba stopped greeting each other via tonsil tennis.

"Mariku!" exclaimed Ishizu, chuckling. "I didn't know you cared about your appearance. So who's the lucky, er, lucky person?"

"I, I just wanted to start dressing like I lived in a house," sniffed Mariku condescendingly. "You know Kaiba-" Here he pointed a finger at the named one "-perhaps you should take my lead. I find it hard to believe you're a billionaire. You don't have to wear the same ugly white coat everyday, don't you know?"

Kaiba seethed. "Well excuse me, Mr I'm So Uber-Metrose-"

"No need to thank me!" roared Mariku. He eyed his toast disdainfully. "Where are my muffins woman? I want muffins! Ho, never mind! I'll stop at Starbucks or something."

With that he stepped carelessly out of the house. Then paused. With a backwards glance at his sister's incensed boyfriend, he murmured, "Oh, and Kaiba? You'd better not drink coffee out of a paper cup these days. Somebody might have dropped a quarter into it."

Mariku cackled insanely. Then without looking back, he was off to school. On foot. His motorbike was confiscated by the police when he ran over private property (and by property, he meant Chihuahua).

* * *

"Well?" Mariku asked, twirling on his Chuck Taylor's (which didn't go at all with his outfit). "What do you think? I bet no other boy has a more expensive outfit than I, not even Yami Ikasu! And don't I look great?"

What the hell did he seriously expect him to say? Bakura shooked his head and scoffed. "Mariku, you look like a drag queen on a day off, and that's putting it kindly."

Mariku was insulted. "It's fine," he said coldly. "You're just jealous, like everybody else. I mean, it's not like you're not in dire need of a makeover anyway, Bakura. A good way for you to round up enough cash for one is to sit in a street corner holding a 'homeless' sign. People will be throwing money at you in no time."

"I guess," Bakura replied, not even bothering to wonder what Mariku was going on about. "So! We have a little time until school starts. Why don't we find ourselves a Malik to pursue?"

"Why not?" asked Mariku indifferently, though inside his tummy was churning with excitement. He didn't know whether Malik would be able to take his good looks.

Slowly they ambled down the corridor, Bakura punching in random lockers for the heck of it, Mariku having an out-of-body experience. They reached the cafeteria where students were sitting chatting, and saw Malik and his gang sitting at a table exchanging scandalous rumours.

"Hey guys," Mariku announced, draping himself across the table. "How's it going?"

They all ignored him and carried on dissecting Yami Ikasu in the verbal sense, and also having a rather silly conversation about gay men. "Do you think that all the gay guys are the cutest? Because even though they look kinda weird in TV, you know like on _Queer Eye_ most of the ones in real life are to die for."

"Oh, definitely," smarmed Mariku persuasively, while Bakura rolled his eyes and plopped down beside Ryou. He stared straight into Malik's violet eyes. "And the sexiest couples are ones where one Egyptian boy meets another, but only if their names are Mariku and Malik..."

Malik looked genuinely disgusted. "Did you just fall out of a failed pilot for _Queer Eye 2_?"

Mariku ignored him and carried on staring hypnotically at his eyes. "I command you to worship me," he murmured, not realizing how completely obvious he sounded.

Yugi swirled the straw of his milkshake dreamily. "Yugi Ikasu. Yugi Motou-Ikasu. Yugi..."

"Shut up, Yuug," Ryou said playfully while looking up at Bakura. "So, Kura...can I call you that?"

"Yeah," replied Bakura breathlessly. "So...so...is that what you wanted to ask me? Or was it something else? or something completely different? Or..." He stopped. he was only confusing himself. "Um...yesssss."

"Whoooooooooooooooooooooot!"

Students instantly clapped hands over ears as suddenly there was a horrifying shriek as likened to none other. When at last it stopped, it was revealed that Anzu Mazaki was the screaming banshee.

"God... What a freak! I just hate that girl! What a loser..." murmured the youths in united hate. Anzu was oblivious.

"Lemme hear ya holla, 'Whooooot! Whoooot!'" she blasted through a megahorn, magnifying her already loud and shrill voice ten times. She was dressed like a cheerleader, in an extremely tight, white sweater and ultra micro-mini skirt. In short: Oh Dear God.

"What does she think she's doing?" Malik hissed. He even had his back arched very cattily.

"Oh, babes! I don't think I heard you say, 'Whooooot! Whooooot!'" Anzu danced about, looking for a target. The boys sitting in the corner, with their glasses steaming up, seemed a good target.

"Hey boys, why don't you tell me 'Whooooot! Whooooot!'" Anzu beamed. The geeks giggled and jostled each other, unsure of what to do with this 'attractive' female specimen that, God forbid, seemed to like them. The bravest one suddenly shoved one hand down her top.

Now that was OH DEAR GOD!

"Eeeeeeeeek!" Anzu hollered, scampering away with the geek dragged after her. She paused. "Hey, I like a feisty one!" She hugged the geek to her. "Erm, anyway - what was I going to say to everybody - oh yeah, vote Anzu Mazaki!"

Then she and the geek were off.

Malik coughed disdainfully. "A publicity stunt, and nothing more. What a complete waste of five minutes of my life. And as if anybody's going to vote for her."

"I am," joked Bakura, while Ryou laughed appreciatively. Malik and Yugi just groaned.

Mariku glared at him. "You said you were going to vote for me..."

"God, Mariku, you are so unintelligent."

But Mariku was lost again in another whirl of thought. "Publicity stunts aren't pointless," he realized. "The geeks are going to vote for Anzu now! I need more votes...so I too need a publicity stunt!"

And with that, he dashed out of the cafeteria to hatch a (no doubt foolish) plan...

* * *

**Kitty: **Ooooh, what's he up to! And yeah! At last I've updated! No go and write your nice little reviews!

**Namu:** And you haven't gotten rid of the great winged golden serpent/dragon Namu yet either! Review, or I shall sink my wicked fangs into your flesh.

**Kitty:** What he said! Now go! Shoo:flaps her hands: Oh wait... :stops flapping: Read this list first.

**1.** No flames.  
**2.** No Anzu-worshipping.  
**3. **We want your reviews!


	5. Say Cheesy!

**Kitty:** Like, omigosh! Tell all your family and your friends, that's the trick, Cheap Trick sings 'I Want You to Want Me', and I want you to read this! After over a year of hiding away in a reclusive island, slinging back vodkas and peach Bellinis on the lush golden sandy beaches (aha...or not), I thought, well, God, this is repetitive. So I returned to civilisation, dusted off my old laptop, and here you are.

**Namu:** That's right, we're _Back in Black_! Well maybe in Kitty's case back in shades of pastel, she hasn't really gotten into her emo stage yet...

**Kitty:** Well...anyway...enjoy!

* * *

**Say "Cheesy!"**

_Click clack, click clack._ Mariku slowed down his whirlwind pace and neatly stepped out into the corridor. _Click clack, click clack._ Hang on...what the fuck? He was wearing Chucks! As soon as he realised this, the familiar scuffling sounds of his shoes returned.

_That was weird_, he told himself. He must have had one too many frappacinos earlier at Starbucks.

"Anyway! A publicity stunt!" Mariku strolled along, trying to summon his inner muse. "Channel your Paris Hilton, man...I think I've got it!"

Apparently the Barbie-like heiress and our reject had more in common than blonde hair. Mariku grinned and considered himself as 'in touch' with 'popular culture' as Miss Hilton. Would you like to know about his grandiose idea? Of course you would! So listen in and listen good, y'all.

Yami was making it in the popularity stakes, Mariku reasoned with a level of disgust, because he was a hero, an _icon_ to his people. If Mariku ever wanted to beat the pompous dickhead, he would have to turn himself into such an icon. And how? By winning everybody's hearts through putting on a talent show of enormous proportions...

That was right. Mariku was going to put on High School Talent Show!

Reading time. A magical time. Where books take you into faraway lands, and words whirl you onward a spirited journey. Where the only ending is a 'happily ever after' ending. Reading time. A time for all.

"Oh God." Bakura buried his face into his hands and flopped back into the squishy beanbag. But not because of Fairy in the Prairie, 'a magical read where you are taken into faraway lands, and words whirl you onward a spirited journey'.

As Mrs Naba, their oddly accented Japanese lit teacher, continued reading the childish text, Bakura carried on moaning, "You are joking. You are not being serious."

"What?" Mariku innocently popped a combination of sunflower seeds, raisins and chocolate into his mouth. Mmm, scroggin. "What could be more fun than combining High School Musical and our own homegrown talents?"

What _couldn't_ be?

"Do you have any idea how much people hate those shows?" Bakura stared at Mariku as if he'd had a full frontal lobotomy. "No way. You're not just going to lose form president, you'll have the record number of murder attempts on a single person in the country!"

"Don't be so whiney," Mariku laughed. "Don't be so conventional in your little nutshell. Wake up and listen to the music. Because don't you know that we're...breaking free!"

"Okay that's it!" Mrs Naba let out a little scream and dropped Fairy in the Prairie as Bakura leaped off the beanbag in annoyance. "There is no way I'm having anything to do with this! You're flying solo, Mariku!"

"Fine!" Mariku looked only slightly put out. Great masterpieces were often rejected. "I'll find somebody else to help!"

* * *

"High School Talent Show?" Malik's eyes shone in tell-tale admiration, before he quickly wiped the look of rapture off his face. "Oh...I mean...back when I was living in Egypt, we didn't have anything half as babyish as _that_."

Ryou positively bounced with joy. "Are you joking? Oh my gosh! I haven't been so excited since Tip Top started making Joy Bars again!"

Mariku smiled laconically, his arms draped across three giddy young souls absolutely off their faces upon hearing his latest mission. "Yes. It is, isn't it? And I've already booked the hall for tomorrow. It'll be a one day sell-out show. Free entry too!" Sell-out and free entry cancelled each other out. Never mind.

_And I'll rig it so I'll win_, he added silently to himself.

Yugi spun around dizzily. "It's tempting to vote for you as form president instead of Yami now..."

"Excuse me?" an imperious voice interrupted Mariku's moment of playing Hugh Hefner to these Playmates. "Did I hear what I think I heard?"

"Yami!" Yugi jumped out of the arms of Mariku and brushed himself down. "Uh, hey! What are you doing here?"

Mariku, Malik and Ryou cringed inwardly at this awkward encounter. Who knew the three could ever be so in tune with each other.

Yami curled his lip. "Well, you see, it's called going home after school. And the fact you're all over this asshole at the school gate doesn't help."

"Oh...well..." Yugi faltered. "You know...Mariku came out with the most greatest idea ever! High School Talent Show...like High School Musical and the Mickey Mouse Club! I couldn't resist telling him how clever it was. You've got to admit it's clever, don't you?" he pleaded, pulling at Yami.

The grumpy teen slung an arm around Yugi. "I guess so. In fact..."

"Yes?" Yugi's eyes were once more hopeful.

"How about me and Mariku join up for this...American High School thing?" Yami nodded to himself. "All the pretty girls and pretty boys gazing up adoringly from the audience with their fatty oily buckets of popcorn...calling my name...asking for my autograph. There'll be reporters, asking me, me, Kanagawa-san, how did I do this? This magnificent-"

"Um," Mariku interrupted. "I was the one who came up with the idea, love."

Yami looked at Mariku appraisingly. "Yes, but the crowd loves a looker. And I've got the looks."

"I know what I'm doing," Mariku sniffed dismissively, "now fuck off!"

Yami glared at him coldly, and then pulled Yugi along. The hapless child squeaked goodbye to his friends and then was dragged across the road.

Malik suddenly realised he was in the arms of his worst enemy. "Right!" He jumped away.

Ryou was the only one left. And he sure didn't like it. "I've got to go now..."

And the two confused boys left, leaving Mariku standing under the shade of a giant oak tree.

"I don't need their help," Mariku declared foolishly. He pointed a finger at the sky. "High School Idol will rock!"

* * *

The next day, the hall was crammed full of hopeful bodies. Hums and off-key notes lay thick in the air. In the midst of this, Mariku darted around with a neat pink clipboard in his grasp. (Not that he liked the colour pink. Ew.) He kept revising his plan. Let the wannabe idiots sing their pop-rock hip-hop trash. Then take it away with a classic number. Or several, if the crowd wanted an encore. Instant success! And if they didn't like him, well, it was his show and he'd win if he wanted.

"Alright people!" Miss Danropu had kindly (or unkindly, depending how you viewed the batty old woman) offered to help organise High School Talent Show. She was now attempting to get audience members into rickety old benches that hadn't seen the day of light since the last World War. "Come, dearies, let's be quick!"

At last everybody settled, after a few splinters were removed from buttocks. Mariku swept onto the stage grandly.

"Hellooooooo," he whispered sexily into the microphone. "I'm your host today, Himesaki-san. Today I'm going to revolutionise this crappy excuse for a school as you know it...by presenting you...High School Talent Show!"

The crowd roared appreciatively, with the exception of a certain cooler-than-thou spiky-haired being.

"I could be getting laid right now," grumbled Bakura.

Ryou coughed delicately. "I'm a virgin."

Bakura had actually been thinking of finally ringing 0800 Dial-a-slut after all the years of fantasising (although there was always Anzu if he got too desperate), but he smiled at Ryou. "It's okay. We can wait."

Ryou blushed madly.

Speak of the devil!

"And now," Mariku declared, winding himself about the cord of the mike - he rather fancied himself as a rockstar in the ways of Mick Jagger - "We have..." He looked down and read his clipboard. His face looked as if he'd been sucking lemons. "...Anzu Mazaki."

Mariku left the stage pale, as if he'd seen a ghost. Meanwhile, an unhappily familiar figure bounced up to the stage. And I mean bounced in every sense. Having seen the (now defunct) wedding photos of Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson, Anzu had decided her own chest was a size too small. Excuse me. Several sizes.

Everybody saw a pair of triple F's on legs thrust forward onto the shiny polished floor of the stage (they don't pay the janitor for nought here!). The geeks occupying the front row visibly began to salivate. Everybody else closed their eyes in dreadful anticipation. Yami overprotectively covered Yugi's ears. Bakura rudely walked out of the hall, with Ryou trailing him. Mariku and Malik were left sitting beside each other, their fear so intense...they were almost...holding hands!

* * *

**Kitty: **Omigod, has Mariku's plan taken a turn for the worse? Or could this be the chance for him and Mal to get some serious make-out time afterwards? Stay tuned for the next chapter of Cat Got the Cream!

**Namu: **And we want your reviews! That's all.


	6. Bugging Marik

**A/N:** I wasn't really going to update this. I last wrote a chapter for it nearly half a decade ago. But I logged onto this a couple of weeks ago for old time's sake, because I'm one of those people who insist upon looking at their past selves, and… I don't really want to put it into words.

I was surprised to see I could still write this. Thank you to the people who reviewed the last chapter: **ROZENNEKO101**, **AroukiiTwins**, **rebelmewphoenix**, **Fake Is The New Real** (I agree), **Mittzy**, **Aleximosaurusmon**, **squigglything **and **Moonlight Memories**. And especially **Shantih **– The Breath Of An Outside God amazes me, and I hope to have more time to read everything else too.

And to **G33K 4ND PR0UD 0F 1T** – those geeks (apart from one, but you'll see) were a figment of my imagination. I don't aim to represent geeks, and I believe there's a bit of geek in everybody. So don't worry!

Oh, and by the way, I foolishly deleted one of my favourite stories on this account a while ago. I don't have a copy of it anymore, but I distinctly remember snow, and well… On the very off-chance somebody saved it, do tell me.

A couple of musical references in here. One is obvious, wonderful wonders to whoever spots the other one. I love my YGOTAS. That is all.

* * *

**Bugging ****Mariku**

"Hi guys!" Anzu grinned. Her normally white teeth gleamed an odd yellow under the spotlights. "I'm going to be performing a song very dear to my heart-"

"The Pokemon theme song?"

"The national anthem?"

"Well!" Anzu's grin grew to terrifying proportions. "Let me just _say_ that, yes, it's very respected, just like the national anthem."

"Baby One More Time?"

"Would you just shut the fuck up!" Anzu screamed.

There was a slight silence as the audience processed what had happened.

The brunette blushed. "Oh, I meant _fudge_. Could you please shut the _fudge_ up, with a cherry on top… Now, this is a song that's very popular in America, called the Fuzzy Little Ducklings. It also has a wholesome moral message, so listen carefully."

And so she began on an epic high-pitched journey through lily pads and bulrushes…

Mariku took his beanie off. It was a fuzzy one that clashed horribly with his hair, and he didn't know why he hadn't noticed that earlier. And now his spikes, his luscious blond spikes, had turned into a gross, static, poofy mess.

"Thanks a lot YSL, hopefully you rot in hell." _I rhymed_. He itched. His outfit was way too hot – at least he looked good?

He took a small mirror out of his pocket and stared at his reflection in despair, and then back at Malik. The other boy had pulled his legs up onto the seat, and had wrapped his thin arms around them…almost protectively. How bizarre. Although, it _was_ Anzu's singing they were up against…

Mariku desperately started trying to flatten his hair into submission.

"You f-" Yami spat as the Egyptian's elbow connected with his eye socket, but he controlled himself in time after shooting a quick look of lovesick foolishness at Yugi. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You look like an idiot!"

Mariku glared at him as he jammed the beanie back on, his cheeks becoming hot. "You're just jealous because my outfit cost more than your mother's car."

"Ha!" Yami snickered. "At least I don't live off one of my own classmates!" He continued in a whisper. "Don't ever bring my mother into this, you dickweed."

"Your mother plays card games in _hell_!"

"What?" Yami's face set into an ugly scowl.

"And what are you talking about anyway?" Mariku continued. "I don't live off my classmates.

"Oh please, it's so obvious to everybody around you." Yami began wearing that arrogant smirk again. "Your sister is nothing but a gold-digger who uses that moron Kaiba to keep you in your apartment…and your ugly outfits as well."

_Of course_, Mariku thought in masked horror. _Where else could those clothes had come from? Goodwill?_

"You call Ishizu names again and I'll-" A pair of hands shot from behind Mariku to shove the bickering pair away from each other.

"You leave my girlfriend's little brother alone or I'll see you in court, Kanagawa!" Kaiba hissed.

"You really bought me clothes…" Mariku sounded as if he were about to cry, and not with happiness either.

"Of course I did," Kaiba said clinically. "I can't believe you didn't realise until now. I had to do _something_ about that dreadful black thing you were going around in everyday."

"What about your stupid coat?" Mariku hissed, feeling more and more childish by the second.

"I'm a billionaire," Kaiba said proudly. "I can wear whatever I like."

Yami looked triumphant, despite having a possible law suit on his hands.

"Although, the least you could have done was _thank me_ this morning when you found your new wardrobe." Kaiba's tone became sour. "Instead you go on and on about the coat. Don't you have any appreciation at all? I work hard to provide for you, God dammit!"

"Oh God…" By now, Mariku felt as if his face was up in flames. "J-just stay out of my arguments, dad!"

There was a muffled yelp as a pastel bundle fell backwards. Fortunately Malik's fall was cushioned by Kaiba's lap.

Malik blinked as he stared upwards at the incredulous Kaiba. "I can't believe he just called you _dad_."

"I can't believe I can see down your top," Kaiba sneered. "Although your flat chest assures me that yes, you are male."

"Or a flat-chested female," Mariku added. "The best kind!"

Malik's hand flew to the front of his hoodie and he clutched the fabric. "Fuck. You. Kaiba. Or should I say, Mariku's _dad_?"

"I did not say that!" Mariku said desperately, and even now, he could see his already slim chances of scoring with Malik disappearing like smoke. "I said _bad_! Like Michael Jackson… I'm just trying to tell the whole world once again who's bad… Kaiba's bad!"

Kaiba looked troubled. "Even though you're a very difficult child at times, Mariku, I still love you. But I'm too young to be taking on fatherly duties at the moment. Perhaps, in a few years' time…who knows…"

"What do you mean Kaiba's the one?" Mariku gabbled. He pointed to himself. "This kid is not his son!"

"Don't cry just because your eyes are like mine…"

Even Yugi, who was tapping his feet and nodding in time and clicking his figures and digging that beat and wiggling those shoulders and singing along to the Fuzzy Little Ducklings – "I've got to take my place in the world, even if means leaving the nest, got to do it one day" – paused for a moment to wrinkle his nose.

"That's _gross_, you guys."

Mariku thought he would just about die. And all the while, his arch nemesis _still _had a smug look about his face.

"Oh do shut up Yugi," Malik snapped, rather rudely to somebody who was supposed to be his friend. "And you can wipe that smile off your face too." He stuck his tongue out at Yami. "As if you and Yugi don't have a pseudo-incest relationship going on."

Yugi's disgust turned to horror.

"What the hell's that supposed to me?" Yami said in a dangerously low voice.

"Y-you said he was hot too!" Yugi finally stuttered.

"There's more to me than just the good looks." But this was ignored.

"Yes," Malik intoned regretfully. "I did say that, didn't I? But sometimes he acts just like a father figure to you… Always giving you _advice_, telling you to _keep safe_, it's weird."

"Somebody who cares about him may do that, I think!" Yami fumed.

"You don't do that to anybody else… Did you tell that last girl to keep safe when you got it on together in the school bathroom…? Yeah, rumours get around quickly, Yami, maybe that's why you're so popular…because you're such a man whore!"

There was a considered silence among the group, Anzu's strong message of love and independence still floating in the background awkwardly. _Man, Malik's a bitch_, Mariku thought. Happily. Yami was opening his mouth slightly, then shutting it, trying to think of a comeback, while Yugi's expression alternated between tearful and furious.

"Too much information," Kaiba said at last, and pushed the hapless Malik off him where he crumpled at his feet.

"I really don't know why I did that…" Malik mumbled, seeming to come to his senses.

Mariku gallantly extended his arm to the smaller boy, and when ignored, he leaned over and lifted Malik back onto the seat. He was light. Like a large sack of feathers, or a very small sack of potatoes. "Did you just stick up for me?" he whispered.

"No!" Malik whispered harshly. His face took on confusion. "Wait…I did, didn't I?"

"Go up, go up, Anzu's finally finished singing, dearie!" The Danropu interjected, her clawed old hand reaching for Mariku.

Mariku quickly remembered what he was supposed to be doing and pushed past Malik – their legs brushed, and there was definitely a frisson there, a _frisson_, he thought to himself, even as Malik sniffed in disdain and shrunk away – and jogged up the rows to the stage. He had always looked like a fool jogging. _I will _never _do that again_.

There was enthusiastic clapping from the row of geeks, perhaps even a cry of "Take off your top!" Had he imagined it? Mariku froze and turned around. Thank God, they were cheering for Anzu… The last note of "The fuzzy little ducklings had grown into mighty, proud ducks at last~" echoed through the hall.

"So…encore anybody?" Anzu giggled.

"Yes!" screamed one particularly rapturous geek. He had hair the colour of mint chewing gum and the shape of an upside down rice bowl with chipped edges. He wore little round gold specs with a cute (ahem) bug motif planted right where his monobrow could potentially have existed.

Mariku had the _totally_ unreasonable urge to take his beanie off and smother the boy with it.

"No, no, we really don't have the time," he said, snatching the microphone off Anzu. "Right, great stuff, see you later, kthxbye."

He sounded incredibly stupid, but at that moment, he just didn't care. "Now-" Oh! And he remembered he was on stage. He placed his hand on his hips and jutted them forward suggestively. Which was kind of hard to do in an unattractive pea green turtleneck, without looking like a model in some mother care catalogue. "Let's welcome Weevil Underwood on stage." Whoever that was. "He'll be doing insect impressions." _Insect impressions?_

Mariku was about to take his leave when the mint-haired boy scampered up the steps. "Hold on there, cute stuff, I'll need an assistant."

Mariku blanched. "What the fuck did you just call me?"

Weevil snatched the microphone off Mariku. "Hey, hey guys, this is _Weevil Underwood_, as the lovely Mariku has just told you guys, and I'm gonna be doing, huh, insect impressions! Lol, huh… So, um, guys, who doesn't know that I'm a huge insect fanatic?"

That fact was established quite clearly not half a minute ago, but Weevil didn't seem to realise this. He pumped his fist in the air like a rock star. An insect-loving rock star. "Yeah, ha, insects…rock! So, uh, hope you enjoy my, um, act guys, and, hur hur, hope I win this talent show, because, um, insects rock!" He paused. "And, uh, it'll really _bug_ me if I just don't bring this house down!"

_Oh, dear God._ Mariku's palm met his face.

Weevil began hopping up and down on stage, making weird whirring noises and flapping his arms. "So uh, guys, wanna guess what insect I'm being?"

"No," a voice said dismally from the back. With a look of joy, Mariku stared into Malik's listless lilac eyes.

"Hur! Well actually, I'm a praying mantis…on drugs!" Oh, wow, jokes of this calibre had never struck the room before. Weevil continued to congratulated himself on his amazing presence of humour, and then began to crawl around on all fours rapidly.

"And now? Guys? Huh? What am I? Guys?"

This time Malik did not even bother to offer a word of discouragement. Mariku, as the host of the talent show, felt obliged to say something. "I don't know. A spider."

"A spider isn't an insect, silly!" Weevil crowed with delight. "Duh! It's so easy! Guys? Come on! Ha ha! Anybody home?"

Still no comers.

"A _weevil!_ Get it?" He turned to Mariku. "Ah, and now the Weevilus Underwoodius has found a potential mate! But don't get turned off guys, you know, um, insects have the same working parts as we do!"

Mariku's eyes widened as he saw the skittering Weevil advancing towards him. "N-no, no, get away from me." He lifted the microphone as a weapon – only he remembered he wasn't holding it anymore. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

The room shook with laughter. Most of it was out of sympathetic embarrassment, but there were still loud roars of mirth from malevolent souls like Yami here and there. Kaiba muttered something about the facts of life but managed a weak smile.

Malik tried to laugh too, but he had a sick feeling inside.

"Save me, Malik!"

That was his name! Mariku had called his name! But Malik was frozen. Should he save the weirdo that had been pursuing him ever since he arrived at school? A series of quick calculations involving three variables said no. Yet Mariku had metaphorically given birth to High School Talent Show…only a few steps away from his beloved High School Musical… Ugh! Why did he even enjoy that piece of crap? Wasn't he supposed to be intelligent? Malik's brain started to melt.

"Oh shit!" Mariku cried as Weevil's pale hands yanked at his own bronzed arms. "Don't come near me!"

For some reason that touch bothered Malik more than anything. He leapt off his seat and ran up to the stage. Most of the students were still laughing (although some looked as if they wanted to vomit). Even the teachers were lined up, arms crossed, with silly little smirks on their faces. As if they enjoyed watching Mariku trying to fend off a small, overzealous potential rapist.

_That idiot! Why doesn't he just punch him?_ Malik thought as he panted up the steps. (Okay, it hadn't been a very long run, but still…) Oh, he was incredibly unfit.

"Don't touch me…! I don't want to die!" Mariku cried miserably, like a perfectly distressed damsel.

"Get the fuck off him, you little bitch!" Malik pulled at Weevil's beetle-embroidered oversized hoodie – clearly he was going for a casual scientist gangsta look – and then punched him. In the teeth.

One of them fell out and tinkled at their feet.

"Ooh, my knuckles!" Malik whined. He cradled it in his other arm and was about to kiss it better. "N-no! It touched his saliva!"

Mariku stopped cowering. "You did come to save me," he said reverently.

Now the teachers were moving. None so fast as the Danropu, who pulled an ancient plastic whistle from her pocket, and rather pointlessly, whistled at the trio. "Now that's quite enough boys! What has gotten into you, I don't know!"

"He started it! That awful little…whatever it is." Malik pointed to Weevil, who was gushing a fountain of blood.

"Well, Ishtana did have it coming," Mrs. Naba added with a wicked smile. "But you, Malik! Why were you fighting? A top student like you!"

"_I _would never do something as irresponsible as that," Yami piped up from the back. If it were anybody else, he would have been covered in bruises.

"Yeah, that Yami's so _good_…yet so _mysterious_," one female voice sighed.

Yugi's eyes narrowed, and his hand reached for a gun that didn't exist.

"Good in bed, mysteriously disappears the morning after," Mariku muttered loud enough for the whole hall to hear.

"I've had enough!" Danropu exclaimed. "Really, this sort of behaviour just can't be tolerated! I'm cancelling the talent show!"

"Wh-what?" Mariku was startled. "But- I prepared a song, and everything-"

"No!" Danropu's nostrils flared once again, dragon-like. "Weevil, get to the infirmary. You two, get to the principal's office. And the rest of you-" She turned upon the audience. "_Get out of here!_"

Stunned, the students began to filter out of the hall. Kaiba made sure to look Mariku in the eye and shake his head disapprovingly before he left.

"Oh fuck off," Mariku muttered. "You were always overdue on your child support payments anyway."

Beside him, Malik managed a faint smile.

* * *

I am so going to have to add a new chapter soon. But I'm tired after all this editing. Good night, my good friends!


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